It Came From Sherwood
by Discarnate
Summary: What happens when a reverse Rip Van Winkle effect is felt in Nottingham? Three girls are about to find out. Featuring an allstar supporting cast of Merry Men, Templar Knights, a surly Sheriff, Prince Notsocharming, faeries and everyone's favourite outlaw
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I think I've been indulging my Robin Hood passion far too much lately. A plot bunny bit me and refused to let go, and this is the result. Sure, I may have twisted some facts and made things up here and there, but hey, what are legends for if not to be embellished? If you don't like it, tough._

_Disclaimer: Robin Hood and all associations are the stuff of legend. I do not own them, nor would I wish to (no smelly wolfsheads wandering around my house, thank you very much!) I do however own myself, Kitten owns herself, and we both stake a claim of ownership for Kelby, although she doesn't know it yet. This has been written purely for pleasure, and I make no material gain from it whatsoever._

I swirled my drink around in its glass and stared across the pub garden and towards the distant strands of oak and pine. I had a sudden mad urge to vault over the fence and run into the forest and climb a few trees, commune with nature, that sort of thing. It was the middle of July and the shade of the forest really appealed to me right now. I hated cities because they always made me feel claustrophobic and hemmed in, and Nottingham was no different. I consoled myself with the fact that I would only have to endure two more days here and then I could return home to the seaside town of Bournemouth. Nottingham's only saving grace was the forest of Sherwood to the north of the city, and I would have to endure the siren call of the forest until I left, or until I could persuade my friends to go for a ramble.

We had agreed to spend a week in Nottingham to coincide with the Green Day gig that we all had tickets for. That had been on Tuesday and it was now Wednesday, and we were recovering from excess consumption of alcohol by consuming more alcohol. My friends, Kitten James and Kelly Black, were currently at the bar and as I glanced through the window I could see Kels flirting with one of the guys at the bar, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she laughed at something he said. Kit looked up, caught my eye, and rolled her eyes at Kels. I snorted and yawned widely, trying to tell her I was bored and to hurry up. She seemed to understand and elbowed Kels in the ribs. I grinned and turned my face back towards the forest.

The girls rejoined me within seconds and I took hold of my second drink of the day from Kels.

"It's hot," she moaned, struggling out of her Green Day hoodie to reveal a plain black tank top underneath. She stretched her legs out on the bench, idly flicking a beetle off her blue jeans.

"It's summer," replied Kit off-handedly, leaning back in her seat and placing her feet on the table. She was dressed as always in hunter green leather pants and a black halter neck top with slashes down the side. She idly scrunched up her long brown hair and let it fall again, the sun picking out her natural highlights.

"It wasn't this hot yesterday," Kels pointed out. "In fact, correct me if I'm wrong, but it was raining yesterday."

"Welcome to England, ladies," I said with a smile. Kit was from Ohio and Kels from Chicago; they had moved to England to attend drama school in London. We had been friends for years, having met over the Internet, and I had recently acquired a transfer from Revenue and Customs in Bournemouth to London so I could live with them.

"Oi, Elli," said Kels suddenly, turning to me and glaring. "I was having fun with that guy," she added with a pout.

"He wasn't your type and anyway, I was bored," I replied easily, tucking my chin-length red-and-black hair back behind my ears. I unzipped my plain black hoodie and tied it around my waist; Kels was right, it was hot.

"Nice shirt," remarked Kels. I was wearing an off-the-shoulder black top with a pink spray-painted heart-and-skull motif on the side, bearing the legend 'The Decadence of Love' in white, and I had a white sleeveless shirt underneath that.

"Thanks. It's old," I remarked casually. "And I'm hot," I added as an afterthought.

"Black's not really the colour for summer," pointed out Kit; I was also wearing black flared jeans and Doc Marten boots.

"Meh. I'll live. Me big mean goth. Me wear black," I replied with a grunt.

"What are we going to do today?" asked Kit after a short silence.

"Getting rid of this hangover would be a good idea," muttered Kels.

"Have something to eat?" I suggested. "I usually have a fry-up after a big night out." Kels shook her head violently.

"Ugh, no! If I have anything to eat I'll be sick!" she moaned.

"Well I had more to drink than you and I'm all right," said Kit smugly.

"That's because you're still pissed," I teased. "Give it half an hour and you'll feel rougher than a sand-dwellers bottom."

"Pleasant image."

"Thanks."

"That still doesn't answer the question of what we're going to do today." I sighed and gazed towards the forest again.

"We could always go for a walk…"

So it was an hour later Kit, Kels and I entered Sherwood Forest. A chill ran down my spine as I stepped under the branches of the first tree, but I shrugged it off as just the effect of entering the cool, leafy shade of the trees after sitting in the sun. Kit however was more prone to listening to her instincts and stopped dead.

"There's been a lot of blood shed in this forest," she whispered.

"Of course. This is one of the places where Robin Hood was said to hang out. The other place is in Yorkshire somewhere," I replied. Kit shrugged her shoulders and made to walk towards the heart of the forest. I grinned and stood in front of her.

"None shall pass!" I said in my most commanding voice.

"What?" she asked, feigning a look of surprise. I suppressed a giggle.

"None shall pass!"

"I have no quarrel with you, good sir knight, but I must pass this bridge," she said, carrying on the quote.

"Then you shall DIE!"

"I command you as King of the Britons to stand aside!"

"I move for no man!"

"So be it!" Kit and I started a mock swordfight using fallen twigs, playing out the rest of the scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Kels just rolled her eyes and stood at the edge of the scene with her arms folded.

"If you're quite finished?" she asked with one eyebrow raised as I screamed and called Kit a yellow bastard.

"Yeah. Sorry." I got up off the floor, dusted myself off and wrapped my arms around Kelby's neck as we walked off.

"Oi! Gerroff me!" she yelled and tried to push me off.

"'Ello. You're pretty," I said in my scariest monster voice. Kels shrieked and tried to push me away but I just held on tighter to her. The end result was that we both went sprawling in the dust.

"Children," snorted Kit as she walked past, a woman who not so long ago had been sword fighting with sticks.

We had a grand time, playing in the fields. We acted out more of Monty Python and the Holy Grail and then did some Lord of the Rings, then a couple of wrestling bouts and Robin Hood, and rounded it off with Romeo and Juliet for the 21st Century. Our hangovers were well forgotten by now and the only thing that would have made the day perfect was if there had been an ice cream truck in the middle of the woods.

We played in the forest until the sun began to set and decided to head back to the hotel. All of a sudden a great weariness overtook me and I couldn't stop yawning. I attributed it to the alcohol I'd had at the pub earlier; drinking in the daytime always made me sleepy.

"Which way back to the city?" asked Kels around a yawn.

"This way," said Kit confidently, also looking completely knackered. She led us back towards the south, judging by the setting sun, which would ordinarily have taken us out of the forest and back towards Nottingham. However within moments we were hopelessly lost.

"Where the hell are we?" I asked in frustration. I was so tired now I was finding it difficult to think.

"I don't know!" snapped Kit irritably, rubbing at her eyes with her fists.

"I don't want to spend the night in the forest," whimpered Kels. "There might be… wolves and things."

"Doubt it, they were probably all scared off centuries ago," I shrugged. I glared at the nearest oak tree. "Is it me or is the forest getting denser?"

"It shouldn't be, it should be thinning out; this is definitely the way back to town," said Kit.

"Well it's getting thicker," I pointed out, sounding harsher than I intended to.

"Well that's not my fault!" snapped Kit. She strode to a blasted oak, which seemed to be glowing white in the setting sun, that had a hollow in the trunk large enough to admit a couple of full grown men. "We'll just have to accept that we're lost. I vote we sleep here and find our way back in the morning."

"Sounds good to me," I said, dragging myself over to the oak and settling myself down in the hollow.

"If we must," conceded Kels, now looking far too tired to argue the point. We all settled down and made ourselves comfortable and within minutes were fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The snapping of a twig was enough to rouse me from my slumber. I felt Kit stirring next to me and opened my eyes. It was now dawn but the sunlight was blotted out by a gigantic figure of a man. He had to be at least seven feet tall and almost as broad again across the shoulders, wearing green tights, brown buckskin boots, a brown tunic, a knife belted at his waist, and the sort of grin that was usually spotted on something stripy lurking in the jungle. I stared at him for a moment before I was grabbed by the upper arm and hauled to my feet.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" boomed a well-spoken voice in my ear. It had an underlying tone of authority, that voice - it was used to barking orders and having them obeyed. "They have the shape of women but they are wearing some very outlandish garments!"

"Whoa, who invited Errol Flynn?" demanded Kit, rubbing her eyes. I turned to face the speaker. A man decked head to toe in forest-green tunic and trews, with a green cap perched jauntily on top of messy brown curls, grinned at me. His dark eyes held a spark of mischief and he held a longbow in his hand.

"Oh great, we've run into the Robin Hood Recreation Society," I muttered.

"What are you doing in my forest?" demanded the man.

"It's a free country," shrugged Kit.

"What I want to know is why they were asleep in our tree," said the giant in a thick rural Derbyshire accent.

"I heard myself proclaimed, and by the happy hollow of a tree escaped the hunt," I quoted and shook my head. "Look, it's been nice meeting you but we really have to be heading back into Nottingham now." Kit and Kels scrambled to their feet and went to follow me as I started towards where I thought the town lay, only to find our way blocked by the giant.

"You're going nowhere 'til you answer our questions," he said.

"Hagrid?" asked Kels, as she shook her head. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"Don't know about you but I wish I was," snarled Kit. "Look, I'm not a morning person. Don't make me have to kick your arse."

"Fine. We'll play your game." I sighed dramatically and sat myself down on the floor. "Who the hell are you?"

"I the hell am Robin Hood, Lord of this forest, and I'm not sure that I like your language, young lady!" he said with a smirk.

"Yeah, sure. Who are you really?" I snorted.

"I told you. I am Robin of Locksley, otherwise known as Robin of the Wood. An outlaw am I, and have been since the age of fifteen when I killed fifteen men with a single arrow!" He looked a right prat, posing with his hands on his hips with one foot up on a fallen log, and Kit burst out laughing. "All right, it cost me several arrows, and it was only five men, but they were trying to kill me. Such a shame that they were richer than I!" He chuckled and carried on. "It was then I met my friend Little John over there. He challenged me to a duel with a quarterstaff and beat me soundly. We've been friends ever since, haven't we, Johnny?"

"Aye, and I can still give you a thrashing, too!" rumbled the giant.

"Over the years we've been roaming the forest, gathering other outlaws to ourselves and forming a merry little band of men who rob from the rich and give to the poor. The taxes that Prince John has imposed in his brother's absence are quite crippling." Kit and Kels looked at me and sniggered and I felt my face flush.

"That's nice, Robin, but we really have to go," I said firmly and turned to leave. His hand on my shoulder stayed me and I turned back to face him.

"I cannot let you go," he said softly. "For all I know you could be a spy for the Prince or the Sheriff of Nottingham."

"Never met them and wouldn't know them if I did and I can't be arsed to play your game. May we please leave?" I snapped. "I'm hungry, I want some breakfast, and I need to go and buy some more cigarettes because I'm nearly out. Excuse me!" I shook his hand off and stormed off, Kit and Kels following me.

"That wasn't very nice," smirked Kit as I strode along.

"Well pardon me, but it's far too early in the morning to bandy words with some jumped-up actor!" I snapped, and rubbed at my head. "Does anyone else feel weird?"

"How so?" asked Kels.

"Well… I don't know… I just feel…" I trailed into silence, trying to explain my feelings. For some reason I felt far more… alive than I'd ever felt before, and there was a pressure in my head that was building up to be a major headache, which would explain my mood.

"Aware?" asked Kit softly and I nodded.

"Let's get out of here. This forest is wigging me out."

The forest seemed a lot larger than it had the previous day, and denser, as if the undergrowth and several thousand trees had grown overnight. I noticed that a lot of the human touches, like fences and poles supporting the older trees, were missing… and actually those older trees looked younger and healthy, too.

"Did someone give this forest a makeover when we weren't looking?" asked Kels, panting slightly in the heat.

"I think it moved, just to spite us," said Kit, glaring at an oak tree. "I'm watching you," she muttered under her breath as a squirrel ran up the tree trunk and sat on a branch, staring at us.

The journey out of the forest took longer than an hour and by the time the trees started thinning out we were hot, sweaty and irritable. Kit, who was by now leading the group as always - she was the youngest, but always assumed the mantle of leader - flung out her arms to stop me and Kelby from going any further.

"Listen," she said ominously. I strained my hearing, but couldn't hear anything apart from birdsong and the wind in the trees.

"I can't hear anything," I said.

"Exactly. No cars. No aeroplanes. Something weird's happened here."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Kelby, pushing her way out of the forest. She turned, screamed and ran back to us. "Someone's stolen the road!"

"You what?" Kit and I ran out of the forest and were confronted by a wide dirt track. Gone were the pavements and tarmac that so marked our times.

"I knew I didn't like that forest!" yelled Kit in frustration. "We've gone back in time!"

"No." I shook my head violently. "It's not true. We're dreaming. I refuse to believe it…"

We walked along some way in silence until we came to Nottingham. What should have been a sprawling metropolis was more of a collection of villages loosely connected via a vast expanse of green. We passed the pub we had been drinking in the day before, the Blue Boar Inn, and I was surprised to note that it hadn't changed much over the years apart from the fact that there was no electric lighting, no picnic tables outside and no window boxes full of flowers. A couple of peasant men eyed us suspiciously as we passed and one of the men crossed himself as Kit glared at him.

"Believe it now?" asked Kels as we headed towards the centre of town. The locals were staring at us and one woman hurried her children inside as we headed down the road. I sidestepped a big pile of dung in the middle of the road and nearly collided with a herd of pigs. I turned to Kit and whimpered pitifully.

"How did this happen?" I demanded. "It can't be true! How the hell have we been transported back nearly eight hundred years?" My voice rose several octaves so that it came out as a squeak.

"Calm down," muttered Kit, looking around her warily. "We'll figure it out, and find out a way to get back…"

"Calm down? CALM DOWN?" I screamed. "Kitten, we have gone back in time! We don't belong here and we stand out like fucking aliens, and you're telling me to be calm? My family and friends are eight hundred years in the future! Football hasn't even been invented yet! We're in a time with no running water, no sanitary conditions and no fucking electricity, and what the hell are you looking at?" I snapped at a man in a yellow tunic and tights who was pushing a cart and had stopped to stare. He seized the handle of his cart and hurried through the crowds.

"I know, I know and I'm as pissed as you are, but please hush, you're causing a scene," said Kelby soothingly, grabbing my arm and leading me away from the interested crowd of onlookers who had gathered.

We wandered away from the main square and I found a log seat and sat down on it, burying my head in my hands. I heard Kit and Kels discussing what to do about getting food and drink, and I heard them wander away to a nearby market stall. My head was throbbing painfully now and I wanted to smash things. I was surprised to find that I wasn't upset, merely angry.

"Excuse me, miss, you can't sit there," a voice to my right said.

"Why not?" I snapped and looked at the speaker, a burly man with wiry black hair and a black goatee.

"That's my seat," he snapped and grabbed hold of my arm to drag me off the seat. I screamed, letting all of my rage and frustration out, and all of a sudden the man went flying across the square. He hit his head on a tethering post and slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"She's a witch!" someone shouted. I could only stare at the man.

"What? No I'm not! That's never happened to me before!" Kit and Kels looked over from where they were bartering with the stall owner.

"Are you upsetting the neighbours?" called Kit.

"No, I've blown them up!" I eyed a group of men who, upon hearing the cries of 'witch' that one hysterical woman kept screaming, had grabbed some heavy looking things from the smithy and were coming towards me menacingly. "Guys, I think you'd better run!" Kit and Kels took one look at the group of men and ran with me following close behind.

"Where to?" yelled Kels over her shoulder.

"The forest, we can lose them there!" I called back. I could hear the men behind me trying to get the townsfolk involved and glanced back. One of them, presumably the blacksmith as he was wearing a leather apron, was right behind me. I swore under my breath and looked ahead again, just in time to collide with a cart. I tumbled into the hay and choked as it went up my nose. The next second hands grabbed me and hauled me out. I just had time to see Kels hauling Kit, who looked like she was about to kick some major arse, into the shelter of the forest before I was whipped around to face the blacksmith.

"What do you have to say for yourself, witch?" he snarled.

"I'm not a witch!" I protested, trying in vain to keep a certain Monty Python sketch out of my head.

"What did you do to Isaac?" he pressed.

"Nothing, I swear, I… I'm not a witch!"

"We'll see about that!" He and two of his mates grabbed me and hauled me off to the other side of the village where I was unceremoniously dunked into the duck pond. I surfaced, spluttering and choking, and glared at the men.

"These are my only clothes!" I protested.

"She floats! She's a witch!" one of the townspeople yelled and hands descended into the water and hauled me out. I glared at the blacksmith as my hands were tied behind my back.

"I'll send for the sheriff," someone said and the rest of the villagers eyed me warily as the smith held me tight.

"Check if she has a third nipple!" a voice in the crowd called.

"No-one's going anywhere near my nipples and I'll kick the first person that tries!" I growled. One of the men lunged for me and I kicked him squarely in the groin. He sank to the floor, making bubbling noises, and I glowered at the rest of the crowd. Presently we heard the sound of hooves and I looked up to see a man on a white horse approaching.

"The Sheriff approaches. He shall deal with you, witch," said the smith, and spat in my face.

"Now that's disgusting." I glared at him, shook my head, and forced a smile for the sheriff of Nottingham.

He was a handsome man, decked in black silk and with short-cropped black hair and beard. My first impression was of Edmund Blackadder in the second season. He gave me a cold, thin-lipped smile and reined in his horse.

"They tell me they have captured a witch," said the Sheriff, and a chill went through me at the sound of his voice. If you could tell the nature of a man due to the sound of his voice, then he was evil. He sounded like the kind of man that liked to inflict pain and I started to feel scared.

"I'm not a witch," I said firmly.

"We shall see. Thank you, Guy. I shall take her from here." The blacksmith handed him the end of the rope and I was dragged along behind his horse.

"Not so fast, sheriff boy!" I called as I stumbled and was dragged along on my arse before righting myself. He said nothing and I grumbled to myself all the way back to the castle.

Once there I was thrown into a dungeon, the Sheriff entering after me and laying his cloak fastidiously over a set of stocks in the corner.

"So, they call you a witch." It was a statement, not a question, and so I didn't say anything back. "Why do you think that is?"

"I have no idea. Some dude lay his hands on me, I push him away, he goes flying and knocks himself out and suddenly I'm a witch."

"And yet you floated in the river."

"Yeah, because I had air in my lungs. Simple physics would let me float." Without warning he lunged for me and lifted up my shirt. "Hey!" I protested and kicked out of him. He lowered my shirt again and stepped back.

"I was merely checking for the mark of Satan," he stated matter-of-factly. "What are those marks on your arms?"

"They're tattoos. You put them there with a needle and ink." He gave me a searching look and picked up his cloak again.

"I will return in a couple of hours. Then we can begin your questioning, to determine whether you really are a witch. Although I have to say I have never yet met a witch who did conform to our society's standards." With that remark he left, the door clanging shut after him. He turned the key in the lock and smirked at me before striding off. I screamed again and ran to the door, kicking the bars in an attempt to dislodge them. Great. Just fucking great! I get lost in the woods, I find myself transported back to the thirteenth century, and I get arrested on suspicion of being a witch. To quote Arthur Dent, it must be Thursday…


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks to my reviewers. Keep pointing me in the right direction and I'll get there eventually! Praise and constructive criticism always welcome. Especially constructive criticism. Anything that will help me write better is always good in my book._

_Entertainedbygrass - I caught half of an old episode of Robin of Sherwood a couple of weeks ago and that's when the plot bunny bit me, so that's probably why. _

_Lady Marian - Thanks! I do need to work on my descriptive writing, and I certainly don't intend the girls to be stereotypical - I'm going to have to work on that too I guess. I'm glad you like my Robin, though! I'm rather fond of him._

_MissMurderKelby - Glad you like! And wait no longer, for here is the latest instalment!_

The cell was cold, despite the summer heat. What little light there was came from a window about a foot above my head and about a foot square. The stocks were badly made with nails jutting out of the sides and I decided to use that to try and get my hands free. Although I managed to cut my wrists to shreds in the process I considered it a small price to pay for being able to use my hands. I jumped up and grasped the bars across the small window, gazing out across the courtyard. People were going about their daily business and as I watched a jester troop slowly across the yard, looking absolutely miserable. Yeah, join the club, mate I thought as I dropped back down to the floor.

I prowled over to the cell door and sighed as I leaned against it, looking out. A guard was sat on a chair and leaning it against the wall as he snoozed, his feet on a rickety table and his sword lying on the floor by his feet. The armour he was wearing was rusty and I grinned at the thought of what my Dad, a former Sergeant-Major in the Army, would have had to say about that. The keys to the cell hung on his belt. I gave the bars an experimental shake but they were stuck fast. A church bell chimed in the town, the sound sending a shiver down my spine, although that could have been due to the fact that my clothes were still damp.

Iron Maiden's Hallowed be thy Name started playing in my head and I grinned. I may be locked up but that didn't stop me having some fun, and that guard looked like he was bored too. I started singing, softly at first.

"_I'm waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime. Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time 'cause at 5 o'clock they take me to the gallows pole. The sands of time for me are running low…" _I strolled over to the door; the guard was watching me suspiciously. I played the riff in my head and then sang as loud as I could as the verse kicked in.

"_When the priest comes to read me the last rites, I take a look through the bars at the last sights of a world that has gone very wrong for me. Can it be that there's some sort of error? Hard to stop the surmounting terror. Is it really the end, not some crazy dream? Somebody please tell me that I'm dreaming, it's not so easy to stop from screaming, the words escape me when I try to speak. Tears fall but why am I crying? After all I'm not afraid of dying. Don't I believe that there never is an end?_"

"Oi you! Quiet in there!" shouted the guard. I fell silent and grinned as I played the guitar part in my head.

"_As the guards march me out to the courtyard, somebody cries from a cell God be with you. If there's a God then why has he let me go? As I walk my life drifts before me, though the end is near I'm not sorry. Catch my soul; it's willing to fly away. Mark my words believe my soul lives on, don't worry now that I have gone, I've gone beyond to see the truth. When you know that your time is close at hand maybe then you'll begin to understand, life down here is just a strange illusion_."

"OI! I'm trying to kip!" yelled the guard, rattling the bars of my cell with a stick. I shrugged again, playing the solo in my head, my fingers twitching as if longing for a guitar.

The guard walked back to his table and settled down again, just in time for the final part of the song. I threw my head back and screamed, "_Hey yeah, hallowed be thy name, hey yeah, hallowed be thy name_!" I held the last word for as long as possible until the guard rattling the bars startled me.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, SHUT UP!" roared the guard. I shut my mouth and looked at him, assuming an air of innocent confusion. I could hear a scrabbling sound by the window and forced myself not to look around; I had a feeling that Kit or Kels would be behind that sound and I didn't want to draw the guard's attention to them. Luckily he didn't appear to notice; he merely glared and walked back to his table and sat down with his helmet over his eyes. Within a few moments he began to snore softly.

I wandered over to the window and looked up. A face appeared in my line of vision; upside-down as if the owner of that face was lying on the roof, but instead of one of the girls I was surprised to see it was Robin.

"Oh, it's you," I said, sounding grumpier than I'd intended.

"Your friends said you were in trouble," replied the outlaw, grinning.

"Well yes, being accused of witchcraft does rank way up on the list of things I didn't want to happen to me. I'd invite you in but I don't think you're thin enough to get through the bars."

"Oh, no matter. Your friends will be causing a distraction any time… now," he said as the sounds of shouting came from the portcullis entrance. "Be right back," he said, winked at me and disappeared.

I ambled over to the door again just in time to see the guard jump up off his chair and run around the corner, seeking the cause of this latest disturbance. Seconds later there was a grunt and after a moment Robin strolled around the corner wearing the guard's clothes and twirling the keys around his fingers.

"Let's get you out of here quickly before the Sheriff turns up to investigate the noise," he suggested, and then promptly set about wasting five minutes trying to find the right key.

"Yes, let's get me out of here quickly," I taunted.

"Be quiet. Ah." The lock clicked and the door swung open, and Robin grabbed hold of my hand and dragged me out of the cell and down the corridor.

"Nice of you to rescue me," I remarked, and thought it best not to mention that my arm felt like it was being dragged out of its socket.

"Yes well, I'm a hero, it's what heroes do," he said and I thought I could detect a note of bitterness in his voice. Before I could remark upon it though I was pushed suddenly into an alcove.

"Sheriff," he whispered in my ear and positioned himself so that I was blocked from the view of whoever was passing the alcove. Unfortunately this meant that I was also squashed between Robin and the wall, so much so that I could feel his ribs digging into me… as well as other parts of his anatomy. I sighed and glanced over his shoulder as the Sheriff strode past, holding what looked like a flail and looking far too happy for a man about to inflict pain on another person.

"Shouldn't we be making our escape?" I pointed out after a couple of minutes had passed, as Robin hadn't moved. Robin grinned at me and leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"The girls can wait, don't you think?" he purred. A roar in the distance signalled the Sheriff's discovery of my absence and Robin jumped back like he'd been scalded. "Or not," he added. "Run!"

"Prat," I muttered, and endeavoured to accidentally-on-purpose hit him over the head as I darted past him.

We bolted for the doors and crashed through them, almost tripping over a couple of unconscious guards as we did so. I spotted Kit and Kels sitting two-up on a white horse and holding the reins of another, a black mare with a silver mane and tail.

"I know it's a bad time to ask you this, but can you ride?" Robin yelled.

"Of course!" I grabbed the reins and vaulted into the saddle, Robin jumping up behind me. He tried to take the reins from me but I elbowed him in the ribs and spurred the mare into a gallop towards the forest, Kit and Kels just behind.

Once we reached the overhanging boughs we slowed to a walk and Kit and Kels came up alongside. I hadn't realised until now just how scared I was; my heart was hammering wildly in my chest and my palms were clammy. I swallowed heavily and took a deep breath to calm down.

"Sorry we had to get him involved," muttered Kit darkly. "I could have taken them on but Kelby insisted."

"You couldn't have taken on the whole village!" protested Kels, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, we got you now… How are you?"

"I'm fine. Glad I didn't have to face the Sheriff again. Now there's a man that needs to understand that just because she's a suspected witch doesn't mean you have unlimited access to her boobs."

"Witches are supposed to have a third nipple with which to suckle their familiars," supplied Robin as Kit and Kels looked scandalised. "May I take the reins now? You are not going to come across my hideout just by stumbling across it."

"You mean like we did?" asked Kit with a grin. I could feel Robin pouting behind me and giggled.

"I steer, you tell me where to steer to," I said firmly. I hadn't been on a horse for ages and I was enjoying myself. Besides, it was pissing the famous hero off. I had an innate talent for annoying people and I was just in one of those moods, probably because I was feeling slightly out of sorts.

I urged the horse on ahead of the girls, ducking low branches and savouring the feel of the forest as we trotted along.

"Thanks again for the rescue," I said, trying to make conversation as I got the feeling that Robin was sulking. "Why did you do it?"

"The company of three charming young ladies?" he suggested. "I told you, I'm a hero; it's what heroes do."

"You haven't always been though, have you? I find it hard to believe that you were outlawed at the age of fifteen and immediately decided to be a hero."

"You're right." He sighed. "It used to be just me, my cousin Will, and John. We used to rob the odd nobleman who ventured into the forest, trying to save up enough coin to buy a palace on the coast and as many whores as we wanted.

"Anyway one day we heard from a wandering Friar that the Abbey of St Mary's had collected far more than their usual tithe, and we thought that the excess money would be put to better use in our hands than in the hands of that fat, gluttonous Abbot. While robbing the Abbey we interrupted a wedding and sadly killed the groom - accidentally of course, I was aiming for the Abbot and he got in the way. The intended bride turned out to be the beloved of a bard who had been trying to stop the wedding anyway. He became one of us, and you could say that tales of my deeds have been greatly exaggerated. Take my advice and never befriend a bard. They're more trouble than they're worth." He sighed again. "There's not much coin left now. I appear to have given most of it away. Again, it's that damn bard's fault. When he starts singing you can almost believe in heroes, you know? You can almost believe that you are one."

I switched off at that point as Robin's vocal meanderings took a turn for the depressing. I closed my eyes and relied on the horse and Robin's occasional instructions to lead me where I needed to go. The horse was a good one and she wouldn't stray. In the meantime I lost myself in the music of the forest. It was amazing, the change a couple of centuries made. I couldn't recall ever feeling so at peace in the twenty first century. I could feel the steady, slow heartbeat of the forest and I was so immersed in my surroundings I didn't even realise we'd stopped until Robin almost pulled me off the horse.

The glade appeared to be deserted as first glance but Robin put his hands to his lips and hooted three times and a score of men and women appeared from branches, behind bushes, in the undergrowth - everywhere, as if the forest had just spat them out. Kit immediately dropped into a fighting stance and Kels and I just stood there, stunned.

"You rescued the witch all right then," said one of them, a man dressed in russet tones unlike the others, who were dressed in various shades of greens and browns.

"Aye, she's safe, Will," replied Robin with a grin.

"And so the great hero triumphs again, braving certain death to rescue the fair maiden from a fate worse than death," said the willowy blonde man who was lounging in a tree above us. A harp lay across his lap and he idly stroked his fingers across the strings.

"Oh don't you start singing now Allan, we're just about to eat," groused Little John. "You ladies like venison? There's plenty to go round."

"I've never had it," said Kit warily. Robin nudged the two girls down towards the camp and placed his arm around my shoulders.

"You two go on down, they'll not harm you. Whereas you, miss witch, are coming with me. We need to get you out of these wet clothes." He winked at me and led me back out of the glade and back towards the same blasted oak that the girls and I had sheltered in the previous night.

"Here." Robin felt around inside the hollow of the tree and pulled out a pair of dark brown leather trews, brown buckskin boots and a soft brown leather jerkin and handed them to me. I took them from him and hesitated as he grinned at me.

"Turn around then," I prompted. "I'm not stripping naked with you oggling me."

"Shame." He turned his back and I hurriedly stripped out of my wet clothes and pulled on the ones he had given me. They were a surprisingly good fit although the trews were skin tight and I worried about my thighs bursting out of them.

Robin whistled softly, rocking on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back, seemingly lost in thought as I got dressed.

"So are you really a witch?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly distant. I shrugged.

"Don't know. Replace the first letter with a B and you're about there, I guess," I muttered, lacing up the boots. I stood up and brushed myself off. "So tell me again why you rescued me, oh great hero?" I repeated. "What's in it for you?" He shrugged.

"Because your friends asked. Because I am a fool. Because Allan appealed to my sense of honour and chivalry and urged me to go on the grounds that the tale will give yet more hope to the poor folk of Nottingham. Because I was intrigued by the appearance of three young ladies from a place that is not like our own and I was annoyed because you had walked out on me earlier. Or it could just be the fact that I haven't had a woman in weeks and I thought you would be so grateful for the rescue that you would bed me." He turned to me and grinned.

"I'm not sleeping with you," I warned him. He shrugged.

"Your friends have already accepted my offer of joining my band," he said softly, squatting down on the floor in front of me. "What if I told you that I would only allow you to stay if you bedded me? What if I were to cast you out if you were to refuse me and you would have to throw yourselves on the mercy of the Sheriff of Nottingham?"

"I would say fuck you and fuck your little gang," I said softly. "And then I would kick your arse." Well, blind bravado had gotten me out of difficult situations before, but it was easier to be brave when everybody was drunk. I wasn't going to talk my way out of this one so easily.

"You think you can beat me?" he asked, smiling although his eyes were glinting dangerously. "So be it. Madam, I challenge you to a duel. If you can out-shoot me, you can stay." I almost panicked then; I had only ever held a bow once and granted, I had got almost all of my arrows in the gold that time, it had been one of the flashy modern sports bows, not a crude, handmade longbow. Still, I reasoned, what was the worst that could happen? Apart from being burned at the stake, of course. If he tried to kick us out then there was always the option of extreme violence. Or cheating. How one would cheat in an archery contest I didn't know and I didn't have any cash on me to bribe anybody, but call it pride or sheer bloody-mindedness, I was not going to back down from this challenge.

"You're on," I said and followed him back to camp.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thanks go out to Lady Marian. Keep the constructive criticism coming! And please, please do let me know if my characters become too Mary Sue-ish, so I can attempt to squash that tendency out of them (although they can be a bit pig-headed and stubborn at times!). Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter. _

"What is your name?" asked Robin, as we made our way back to camp. "I can't keep calling you 'witch'. It's not proper…"

"I'll tell you when I've beaten you," I said, my voice sounding a hell of a lot more confident than I felt. I was shaking inside, but was damned if I was going to let it show.

"Suit yourself. I was only trying to be friendly. It would be pleasant if you could be, too," he added pointedly.

"Look, it's been a very weird day for me, okay?" I snapped. "I'm not from around here. This is all a little bit too…" I tailed off, trying to find the right words.

"Strange?" supplied Robin.

"You could say that. I was veering towards the 'completely fucking mental', personally." Robin laughed and clapped his hand on my shoulder.

"Well, there are a few ways of relieving tension…" He smirked suggestively and I snorted and shook my head. "No? Ah well, I find shooting works almost as well. Ah, John, my good man!" He went off with his friend and I cast around for the girls, spotting them sat a little away from the rest of the camp and conversing in whispers.

"So you've decided to stay then?" I asked as I sat down. Kit jumped and swore.

"You don't sneak up on people like that! You make noise when you move… you stomp, or yodel!" she admonished.

"Buffy freak," snorted Kels.

"Hell yeah."

"Anyway, yes, we've decided to stay," replied Kels. "For one thing, we kind of owe Robin for rescuing you, and for another… well, it'll do until we work out why the hell we're here, how we got here and how we can get back, and I think we'd do better if we were left alone here than if we were hounded in town."

"Any ideas?" I asked hopefully.

"Magic," suggested Kit immediately. "Don't tell me you can't feel it." Kit and I both had Celtic blood and had dabbled in Wicca, which could account for the strange mental connection that we seemed to have at times. And now that she'd mentioned it, there was… something in this forest, a general feeling that I couldn't put my finger on. I closed my eyes and concentrated, breathing deeply and evenly and wrapping the sounds of the forest around me as I sought the trance state I used to go into meditation. I felt nothing at first and then suddenly a jolt, almost as if an electric shock had surged up my arms, and I felt the raw power pulse with the heartbeat of the forest. I'd felt it before back home in certain places, most notably in a small village in the New Forest, but never this strongly.

"Odin," I breathed, and opened my eyes; for some reason I had always been hopelessly drawn to the Norse gods above any other. "Why?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? Mankind hasn't raped the earth yet. We've not covered over the fields with cities of stone and buried the power beneath them. There's no pollutants fucking up the air and screwing with nature. And more importantly, enough people still believe," put in Kels.

"Believe in what?" Kit and I asked together, and glared at each other.

"Faeries. Elves. Magic. Iron. Old wives' tales. I don't know!" Kels groaned and pressed her palms to her eyes. "I… I know it but I can't explain it, you know?"

"Well if it was faeries then they've got some explaining to do," growled Kit.

"Never mind that now, is there any way we can harness the power so I can cheat at an archery contest? I've got myself into a bit of a pickle," I added in response to their confused looks. "Robin's said we can only join him if I beat him in an archery tourney and before you say anything, yes I am familiar with the Law of Three," I added as Kit opened her mouth to say something.

"Just making sure you knew, and get out of my head," she replied with a grin.

"I don't think we should be trying anything just now," said Kels reasonably. "We need to work out why we're here first. And we've got to be careful. Anything we do here can have serious repercussions on the future."

"Unless we're meant to be here," Kit pointed out. "What if all of this has already happened?"

"It doesn't matter. Until we can work out why we're here we have got to be careful. We can't just wander off and do things willy-nilly."

"Yeah, but remember all those times we said before that we felt like we were born in the wrong time? Surely that's got to count for something. Elli, back me up here."

"I'm sure this is a fascinating conversation and I hate to interrupt, but we do have a score to settle first." We all jumped as Robin spoke; I hadn't even heard him approach.

"What is it with you people and sneaking around?" demanded Kit, massaging her chest.

"All right, I'm coming. We'll pick this up later, guys. Wish me luck," I said as I got to my feet.

"Good luck!" they chorused. Robin smiled at me and executed a wonderfully extravagant bow.

"My lady, if you would care to follow me?"

He led the way to an area that was obviously used as a training ground; the ground was churned in places, the trees surrounding the small clearing were pockmarked with scars that could have been from arrows, and a pile of swords were heaped haphazardly against a pine tree. Little John was standing in front of two archery targets and the rest of the outlaws were gathered in a semicircle among the trees, chatting amongst themselves. Little John clapped his hands for attention and all conversation slowly stopped.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Sherwood Forest," he began, the volume of his voice startling some birds in a nearby tree. "I know some of you have been complaining about the lack of entertainment this afternoon, but worry no longer! We have in our midst three charming young ladies who would like to join us. However, they can only stay if they can beat our fearless leader with a bow." A ripple of laughter flowed through the ranks. "Here on my left we have a young lady who refuses to tell us her name just yet. She was accused of witchcraft this morning and was all set to burn at the stake until Robin sprang her from jail. We have, ladies and gentlemen, a witch!" He beckoned for me to come forward and I swallowed heavily. It felt like a butterfly farm had taken up residence in my stomach and my legs were shaking as I moved towards him. I took a longbow and a quiver of arrows from him and tried to remember how to hold the thing. Kit and Kels cheered loudly but the majority of the crowd hissed and booed at me.

"And here on my right we have a legend in the making. Unbeatable with a bow, his courage, determination and sheer bloody-mindedness are feared by all rich men in Nottingham. Brave, fearless, reckless and devilishly handsome, Lord of the Bow and Lord of the Forest, show your appreciation for Robin of Locksley!"

"Oh, shut up," muttered Robin as the crowd cheered and he took his bow from the giant.

"We begin with the targets at ten paces. Ladies first. In your own time."

John moved out of the way and I took a deep, calming breath as I stepped forward. I went to notch an arrow to my bow but my hands were shaking so much that I dropped it, to the accompaniment of laughter from the crowd. After a few false starts I managed to get the arrow notched and pulled the string back to kiss my cheek. "Come on, girl, concentrate," I muttered as the point of my arrow jiggled about. I took another deep breath to calm myself, aimed and let fly, sighing in relief when the arrow punched through into the centre of the target. Robin stepped up, notched his arrow and let fly in one smooth movement; needless to say, his shot was perfect.

The targets were moved back another ten paces and again I got gold - just, and so did Robin. The targets were moved back another ten paces and I was nervous as hell now. The last shot had been lucky. My stomach twisted itself in knots as the outlaws shouted and jeered and tried to put me off. I took aim and focused on the centre, and just as I let go something hit me in the back, knocking me forwards slightly and causing my shot to go hopelessly off, the arrow punching into the tree behind my target.

"Hey!" I yelled, whirling around to find out who had thrown what, my back throbbing painfully. Robin stepped up and took his shot; another perfect centre for the marksman. My eyes fell on a stone just in front of me and I picked it up, rubbing my back. "Who threw this? That bloody hurt!"

"Commiserations, witch," said Robin, utterly failing to hide a grin as he shook my hand. "I'm afraid you and your friends have to leave."

"No fair! That was a foul shot! Someone hit me with this!" I protested, holding up the stone.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his face creasing into a frown.

"As the soon to be purple bruise on my back indicates, yes!"

"Come now, you fellows! I will not have cheating in my camp!" called Robin. The group standing just behind me all contrived to look wonderfully innocent and Robin snorted and dropped the stone. "Fine. You may take your shot again, miss." I stepped up and notched another arrow to the bow, trying to ignore the pain and focussing on the target. My arms were feeling heavy and shook slightly as I took the shot, and the arrow punched into the red, a hair's breadth away from the gold. I swore and rounded on Robin, fury running like fire in my veins.

"Fine. You know what? I didn't want to stay anyway," I spat as the outlaw opened his mouth to speak. I threw my bow to the ground and ran in the opposite direction, ignoring Kit and Kels who were calling my name.

I was so angry I didn't look where I was going, and didn't much care anyway. I was angry at myself for losing the contest, angry at having agreed to the contest in the first place, and I was a little scared at being in the past which only fuelled my anger. I pushed blindly through a bush and tripped over a root, and I heard my ankle click as I fell to the ground. I roared as pain coursed through my ankle and curled up into a ball, sobbing and swearing and blaspheming all the gods that I could think of.

"Fucking Thursdays," I muttered as I pulled myself to my feet and swore again as pain flared in my left ankle. "Why did you bring me here, Sif?" I yelled towards the sky. "Why leave me stranded in the past? What the hell am I supposed to do here?" I thought of my family, eight hundred years in the future, and terror gripped me at the thought I might not see them again. I screamed and kicked out at the nearest tree, cried out in pain as my toes crunched and dropped to the floor, tears rolling down my face. "I'm lost, I want to go home, I'm a total fucking idiot and I've broken my foot," I whimpered, hugging my knees to my chest.

"I don't know about home but I can take you back to camp," offered a strange, new voice. I yelped in fear and spun around to face the newcomer, relaxing slightly as I recognised the man in russet from the camp. He was handsome, facially similar to Robin, with long, dark auburn curls and startlingly green eyes. Unlike most of the others in camp he was clean-shaven, although this late in the day stubble was showing on his chin. "Robin's decided that you can stay, which is what he was going to say right before you ran off."

"Yeah, about that. I was angry and I tend to want to be alone when I'm angry," I said, a little more harshly than I'd intended. I was still angry, although now I was purely angry at myself for being an idiot. I tended to react to confusion with violence, an attitude that had won me very few friends and got me into trouble on more than one occasion.

"That's what your friends said, but Robin insisted I follow you in case you got yourself into trouble. The name's Will. Will Scarlett." He held out his hand and helped me to my feet and I winced and hopped on my good foot.

"I'm Elli, and I'm fine, thank you!" I snapped, brushing away his arm as he reached out to help me. I walked a couple of paces and stopped as my foot protested. "Okay, I'm not fine," I amended, gripping hold of a bush for support.

"Stubborn little thing, aren't you?" Will asked, his eyes twinkling. "Let me help." He hooked my arm around his shoulders and slipped his other arm around my waist. I leaned on him and gingerly lowered my foot to the ground. "Better?"

"A little. Thank you."

We started off for the camp in silence, taking it slow. I winced as I saw the damage I'd done to the bush I'd fallen through and whispered an apology as we passed; it was a habit stemming back from childhood that I'd never broken. As we walked and I stared at my surroundings I found my rage dissipating, as if a cool wind was blowing through my mind. Birds were singing and the last rays of sunlight were giving the forest an eerie red glow. I felt calmer as I absorbed the feel of a forest winding down for the night.

"Who is Sif?" asked Will, breaking the silence, his voice jarring with the harmony of the forest.

"Goddess of destiny. Married to Thor, the god of thunder," I replied in a half-whisper.

"Ah, you are of Viking descent? That explains the temper," joked Will.

"You know, it wouldn't surprise me? There's just about everything else in my ancestry," I laughed. "Irish, Scottish, Welsh, Cornish…"

"Celtic too? Oh dear! We'll definitely have to keep an eye on you!" he teased.

"Why did Robin decide to let me stay, anyway?" I asked, changing the subject with lightning speed. Will shrugged.

"He said something about you girls bringing entertainment to the camp. I can certainly see why; an unpredictable, Viking, Celtic harridan willdefinitely make life interesting. I think you intrigue him, and he wants some answers from you."

"He's not the only one who wants answers," I muttered darkly, shooting a last glance over my shoulder towards the heart of the darkening forest. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but there seemed to be something silvery flitting between the trees, too distant to make out. I shivered and hurriedly snapped my gaze forwards, suddenly filled with an unaccountable feeling of fear, and didn't look left or right until we got back to camp.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks again to my reviewers! _

_Lady Marian -I hope you know just how much I appreciate your criticism. Sorry for thetameness of last chapter, hopefully this one should be a little livelier!_

_Rae-elfin-warrior - Thanks! Glad you like the story!_

_Remember: Reviews make the world go round and constructive criticism makes decemberunderground a much better writer. Also if there's anything you want to see in later chapters, I'm willing to listen to suggestions. The review button is there for a reason. Use it! Or I'll set my tribe of pink ninja pirates on you..._

Night was fast approaching as we arrived back at camp and several small fires had sprung up, with groups of people laughing and joking as they told stories. Towards the back of the camp several men were greeting a new arrival, a portly man with thinning white hair and wearing rough brown robes tied in the middle with string. He was sitting on top of a wagon harnessed to a donkey, currently engaged in the act of unloading the several barrels that the wagon carried. Will located the fire around which Robin and the girls were sat and helped me over to it. I sat down gratefully and removed my boot. My left ankle had swelled considerably and Will frowned as he examined it.

"Wait there. I'll go and fetch a healer," he ordered and disappeared. I turned to smile at the girls and yelped as Kit hit me over the head.

"What the bloody hell did you go and run off for, gaggio?" she demanded, slipping into a mix of British slang and Italian cursing like she always did when she was irritated.

"It seemed logical at the time," I shrugged and she snorted.

"Yeah well, if you try a stunt like that again…"

"Fascinating though your bickering is, I believe you three have a tale to tell and now that the runaway has returned, I would like to hear it," interjected Robin. "Kitten and Kelly tell me that you are from London, but somehow I doubt it. Notorious though London is for its fashions, I have yet to hear of a fashion that allows women to dress as men. Plus, their accents are strange. Where are you from originally?" he asked Kit.

"The States," she replied cagily.

"Never heard of it," said Little John, arriving at our fire with Will and a short, plump woman with long dark hair and wearing a white apron over her simple, dark green, cotton dress. "Ladies, this is my wife, Fanny. She has the knowing of herbs and suchlike and is a wonder when it comes to aches and pains." He put his arm around his wife's shoulders and kissed her cheek.

"Oh, gerroff me you great lummox and make yourself useful," she grumbled good-naturedly. "I'll need some cold water and some clean cloths."

"She loves me really," said John with a sigh and disappeared on his errand. Will sat down behind Fanny as she bent over my foot and I winced as she began prodding it.

"John's right. Where is this place?" asked Will.

"The United States of America. It's a land far away to the west, about four thousand miles," supplied Kels. Robin snorted in disbelief. "I'm also from there, from a place called Chicago. Elli's the only one who's actually English."

"Don't be ridiculous. There's nothing to the west but the edge of the world," he said loftily. "Everyone knows that."

"What everyone knows now is… not what everyone knows in the future," said Kels carefully, trying to avoid suggesting that Robin was wrong. "And that's where we're from. The future."

"Ah, now I've heard everything!" laughed Robin, clapping his hands delightedly. "Now let's get serious for a moment, shall we?"

"We are being serious," snapped Kit. "We're from the year 2006 and things are… different. A hell of a lot different."

"If that is true then how did you arrive here?" asked Will softly, ignoring Robin's snort of derision.

"I don't know," I answered. "We were in Nottingham and decided to go for a walk in the forest. We got lost and fell asleep in that oak back there." I gestured towards the massive oak tree that marked the entrance to the camp. "When we woke up we were back in time and that's where you found us."

"Unbelievable!" laughed Robin. "At least you could have thought up something plausible."

"No, wait, ah hell, I knew I had my bag with me earlier… ah!" Kit found her bag and rummaged through it, pulling out her purse. "This is the money we use in the future," she said. "This is English money," she added, handing Robin a five pound note, "and this is American money," handing Robin a dollar bill.

"Paper money?" John asked, reappearing with the water and cloths. "That's the daftest thing I've ever heard."

"This is a cell phone," she added, staring at it forlornly. "Battery's dead though… It's a telephone. You can speak to anyone you like regardless of where they are in the country. And this is an mp3 player. It lets you play music, and hey! The battery's not dead! Let's see if it works!" She put one of the earphones in her ear and pressed play. "Yeah, it works! Listen." She gestured to Will and put the other earphone in his ear. He swore and jumped back.

"That's music?" he demanded, rubbing his ear. "It's just noise!" Robin glared at the contraption, his face darkening.

"What did you play him?" I asked.

"King of Kings by Motorhead," she replied with a grin.

"This is all very fantastical," remarked Will, still rubbing at his ear, looking like he didn't know whether to be scared or impressed. "But how did this happen?"

"I know how," thundered Robin, jumping to his feet, his handsome features twisted in an ugly snarl. "Sorcery!" He levelled an accusing finger at us, his dark eyes betraying his fear. "I thought the witch thing was a gross misunderstanding on the Sheriff's part, but now I see differently! I'll not consort with disciples of the Devil and practitioners of the black arts!"

"Oh, boy," muttered Kels, rubbing her temples as Robin went into a spectacular rant against witchcraft.

"Will you shut up, you silly little man?" snapped Kit. "It wasn't anything to do with us… at least I didn't cast anything, did you?" she asked of Kels and me. We shook our heads.

"Begone from my camp, foul hags!" ordered Robin.

"I said SHUT UP!" thundered Kit, jumping to her feet and pointing at Robin. There was a strange sensation as if every part of me was being gently squeezed and everything around us froze.

"Holy Odin!" I shrieked, jumping to my feet and almost kicking Fanny in the face. "What the bleeding hell have you done, Kit?"

"I… I don't know," she replied, looking shocked and staring at her finger as if it was loaded. She stared thoughtfully at the fire, frozen in mid-flicker, and reached out towards it.

"Kit…" began Kels tiredly as Kit yelped and sucked at her burnt fingers. Kels rolled her eyes. "I give up."

"How can you be so calm?" I demanded as I stared around me, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. "I'm freaking out here, look, this is me and this is me freaking out!"

"I'm a little surprised but to be honest it's not entirely unexpected," said Kels calmly. "You and Kit were saying earlier how you could feel the magic; it was only a matter of time before one of you did something weird. And Kit, stop poking things," she added, as Kit started prodding Robin in the stomach.

"Aw, but its fun," she pouted, and grinned suddenly. "Whoa."

"Whoa like a million," I amended, sitting myself back down. "Firfan, Kit! You can do magic!" Who or what Firfan was I wasn't really sure, but I had taken to using the name in place of blasphemy when the names of all other gods failed me; I think he was a god of hunters in a book I'd read a while ago.

"I know… and it's weird," said Kit. "I've never known this much power before," she added, looking thoughtful.

"Its hella weird," supplied Kels. "Now stop mucking about and reverse it."

"Uh…" Kit looked lost. "I don't know what I did!" She looked over at Robin and grinned as a sudden thought crossed her mind. "Hey, if I can do magic, then I wonder if the Harry Potter spells work? Cruc-"

"NO!" Kels sprang up and covered Kit's mouth. "You are NOT subjecting Robin to the Unforgivable Curses, there's no telling what damage you might do!"

"Spoilsport," she muttered, sitting back down on the grass and tucking her legs underneath her. "I only wanted to see if it would work!"

"It probably would and that's what concerns me, we're trying to talk him round, we do not need him writhing in agony on the ground, that'll just make him angry. Why do I always have to be the sensible one?" she added as she sat back down too.

"Because we're mentally unstable and someone has to keep us in check?" I suggested, trying to stop myself shaking. "Kit, is there any way..?"

"I don't know," she replied with a frown. "Uh… Abracadabra, hocus-pocus, bibbedy-bobbedy-boo?" she suggested half-heartedly. "Ugh, I don't know!" She balled her hands into fists and rubbed her eyes, muttering to herself. All of a sudden the squeezing sensation lifted and things around us unfroze.

Robin stopped mid-rant and narrowed his eyes. He had gone very red in the face and his lips moved soundlessly for a moment while his brain caught up with his eyes.

"What did you do?" he demanded. "You've moved, without moving, I mean… I didn't see you move," he added accusingly.

"I did some magic and I don't know how I did it, I've never been able to do that before," replied Kit calmly. "Now are we going to dispense with this black and midnight hag nonsense or do I have to kick you in the nuts?" Robin folded his arms and leaned back against a tree.

"All right, I'm listening," he muttered grumpily. "But if you cannot convince me…"

"Then shut up and let me speak, all right? Yes, I just did magic. I've never been able to do magic before, at least on that scale, although I did a bit back home. But it's nothing malevolent or evil; the power comes from nature, not the Devil. And we're bound by the Law of Three, which states that everything you do comes back at you threefold, so we won't be cursing you while you sleep or anything like that. I don't know if the other two will be able to do magic, and I don't know what I'm capable of yet, but something else brought us here and we're not leaving until we find out who, what or why." She folded her arms and glared stubbornly at the outlaw leader.

"I should agree with her if I were you, when she gets that look there's no arguing with her," I supplied helpfully. Will and John were staring at Kit as if she was insane and Fanny had gone white, although she was still diligently working on my foot.

"Where else are we going to go?" asked Kels reasonably. "We won't be any trouble, I promise. If anything we can help you and once we've found our answers, we'll be gone."

"Hmm." Robin stared at her for a long time, his lips pursed as he thought. "You can help, you say?" Robin asked gruffly. "Very well, you can stay, but you will have to prove I can trust you. You are not to leave the camp until I give my say-so, understood? I want to be able to keep my eye on you. You'll have to help out around the camp. Healing, cooking, hunting, darning, washing, anything you're good at, you do. And you'll also have to be trained; Will, I want you to give these ladies a grounding in the basics of swordplay starting tomorrow."

"Of course." Will nodded, looking thoughtful.

"I thought there were strict rules about women and fighting in the Middle Ages?" asked Kels.

"In the world at large there may be, but I expect my women to be good at it and you had better prove yourselves worthy!" snapped Robin. "Now excuse me, I see that Friar Tuck has returned with ale and I am going to go and get drunk. Will! John!" He gestured with his arm and stalked off, John following. Will looked like he wanted to stay and talk but followed his leader reluctantly.

"Well, that went okay," I muttered, letting out a breath I hadn't been aware of holding.

"He is a prat," muttered Kit darkly

"Yes, maybe, but at least we'll have some sort of protection while we're here," said Kels reasonably. "I didn't fancy taking my chances out there on my own."

"There. I'm done. That's a nasty sprain you've got there, miss; I'd keep that foot rested for a day or two," said Fanny and I jumped, having momentarily forgotten that she was there.

"Thank you," I said, prodding at the bandages around my foot.

"I've got some herbs that will help with the pain as well," she said, sounding oddly distant. "If you'd follow me, I'll take you back to my hut. Can you climb?"

"I suppose so," I replied, getting up and gingerly testing my foot. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

"You two as well, this way," said Fanny. She whistled up at the nearest tree and a rope ladder was released, swaying slightly in the evening breeze. She shinned up the rope ladder like a professional and I followed, slowly and awkwardly.

At the top of the rope ladder was a platform and I gasped; high up in the trees was a network of platforms and bridges, disguised by the uppermost branches of the trees; in places instead of bridges, some of the thicker branches had simply been tied together. Some tree-houses had been fashioned out of wood and thatched with leaves with animal skins across the doorways and here and there next to certain huts were hammocks and blankets. It was like a village had been built above the ground and I stared around me in wonder.

"It's like Lothlorien, but without the elves," I breathed. Fanny nodded at the sentry on the platform and led us across a maze of bridges, stopping at one of the larger huts. A sign had been painted on the door, a green circle with a dot in the middle.

"That means I'm a healer," she explained as Kit, Kels and I stopped to stare. She opened the door to the hut, checked inside and beckoned us in.

A lot of people evidently lived in this hut. Six beds in total were lined up in a row, one of them a double. Pictures had been crudely painted on the walls too, the largest of which showed a man with a beard and a long stick fighting a bear. Clothing and bedding were strewn all over the place. A thick aroma of spices filled the air and jars of potions lined a shelf away to our left, underneath which a cauldron sat.

"Excuse the mess but with a husband and five kids, this place is a bugger to keep tidy," said Fanny, removing some clothing from one of the beds and gesturing for us to sit which we did, to the accompaniment of the rustling of hay.

"Now, to business," she said, speaking almost in a whisper as she sat down on a crudely crafted stool. "I heard you wenches say you could do magic, correct?"

"Well, Kit can, we don't know about us yet," I replied, gesturing to myself and Kels.

"I'm sure you can, else otherwise you wouldn't be here," said Fanny simply. "Now listen, I've not told this to anyone, mainly because the rest of them'll react the way Robin did back there, but… I can do some too," she said, speaking quickly now. "It's nothing big, but sometimes I'll know things without knowing why, and I can always see John even when he ain't here." She closed her eyes and smiled. "He's filling his fat belly with ale and carousing with Rob and the lads," she added. "I know all there is to know about herbs and medicine and if it weren't for my know-how there'd be a fair few more nippers running amok, if you get my drift. And sometimes, when the moon's right… I'll see them."

"See who?" asked Kit, leaning forwards, her dark eyes shining with excitement.

"The Gentry," Fanny whispered and glanced around fearfully, as if saying the name aloud would call them here. "Fair beautiful, they are, but they're a devil to talk to, always speaking in riddles, the sly buggers. They talk about tides and forebodings and other such nonsense that I can't comprehend, but I daresay you might. If you can play their games, I reckon they might have your answers."

"How can we meet them?" I asked.

"There's a faerie ring about fifteen minutes' walk east. The moon's full tomorrow night so if you were to travel there then they might come to you. But be careful. There's many that're cruel as are kind. And take some iron with you. They can't stand iron. Says it bends the world the wrong way or something. There's plenty of horseshoes lying about the place, no-one'll notice a couple missing."

"Thanks," whispered Kit, awe-struck. "Did you hear that, guys? Faeries-"

"Please don't say the name!" urged Fanny. "It'll only call them and we don't want their mischief in the camp! And we never had this conversation, all right?" she asked sternly and we nodded. "All right. Here's your tonic, miss." She handed me a blue bottle stoppered with wax and I sniffed it gingerly. It smelt like liquorice. "Now that's over I'm sure you'd like to meet some of the gang, am I right?"

Fanny led us back down into the middle of the camp. Robin and Will had their arms around each other and were singing loudly, a bawdy song concerning the loose morals of the young ladies of Nottingham and joined by a few men, and stopped when they saw us. Some of the men nudged each other and grinned. One of them made a hand gesture which I couldn't see as it was conveniently shielded by Robin's back, and the men burst into hurriedly hushed laughter. Robin frowned momentarily before apparently deciding to play at being a good host and fixed us with a brilliant smile.

"Ah, my fine young hags!" he greeted, slurring his words slightly. "I would like you to meet my most trusted men!" He indicated the small crowd behind him and bade them to step forwards one at a time.

We were introduced to Friar Tuck, the man with the wagon, a man whose love of ale was as strong as his love for God. Allan a Dale, the bard, a tall, willowy man with blonde hair and a blonde beard who carried a harp slung over one shoulder and his wife Ellen, a slender, graceful woman who had raven hair and green eyes. Gilbert White Hand was tall and muscular with a floppy brown fringe and quite a bit of stubble. David of Doncaster was short and stocky with wiry brown hair and brown eyes. George a Greene was a tall wall of muscle with close cropped brown hair, brown eyes and a friendly smile. Much the Miller's son was a young man of about seventeen or eighteen, tall, thin and gangling with red hair and freckles. Little John's cousin Arthur almost matched his relation for size, a thin braid hanging from his temple. Wat O'the Crabstaff was short and had a mass of black curls, his face lost in a war between his hair, his eyebrows and his beard, and he appeared to be constantly grinning. Finally we were introduced to Will's cousin Cecily, an extremely pretty girl with long brown hair that fell in curls to her waist, and wearing a simple white gown that reached to the floor; my first impression was of Arwen from the Lord of the Rings movies.

"So, you're witches then?" asked Gilbert, grinning at Kels. "They say round here that if you kiss a witch you gets turned into a frog."

"No, no, you've got it wrong, if you kiss a witch she gets turned into a toad, or is it a cat?" said Wat.

"You're both bloody mad, it's if you piss a witch off she'll turn you into a frog and you has to be kissed by a princess," said Arthur.

"What sort of princess would want to kiss a frog? I can't see princesses going down to a pond and randomly kissing frogs in the hope that one of them will turn into a man," protested David.

"Ah, but see, you can still speak so you just say 'Oi, princess, I'm actually a very handsome man, come here and kiss me' and then she does kiss you and you has to be married."

"I still can't see any princesses kissing frogs, and if a frog was to speak to a princess she'd probably scream and run away, at least that's what I'd do," said George. "Or think I'd drunk too much ale, one of the two."

"Ah, but then you gives her a golden ball and then she knows your special, right?"

"Right, because there are plenty of golden balls just lying around the bottoms of swamps. Sure, right. I can see I've been daft!" said Wat.

"How would a frog pick up a golden ball anyway?"

"Don't mind them," said Will hurriedly as Kit, Kels and I laughed at the boys' bickering. "They're just simple folk, really, and not at all completely insane." He grinned and whistled to Allan. "Hey, Allan! Let's have a song, and give these ladies a proper Sherwood welcome!"

As it turns out Allan wasn't the only Merry Man who could play an instrument. Several produced flutes that they had whittled themselves, Allan played his harp, someone had a fiddle and someone else a mandolin, and within moments music rang out in the clearing, sounding impossibly loud in the calmness of the night.

"Right, men, I don't want to see you standing around gossiping like fishwives," roared Robin. "Grab your wives or the nearest available filly and let's see some dancing! Miss witch… Elli, wasn't it? May I have the first dance?" He bowed and extended his hand, staggering a little as he did so.

"Go on then." I took his hand and he twirled me around, placed his other hand on my waist and led me into the middle of the clearing.

We danced awkwardly due to the bandages around my foot; the fact that Robin kept stepping on my foot, whether accidentally or on purpose I couldn't tell, didn't help matters. I lasted a song and a half before deciding to sit down. I sat at the edge of the festivities next to Friar Tuck's wagon, gasping for breath and massaging a stitch in my side, stretching my leg out in front of me. Robin disappeared and reappeared again with two tankards of ale, one of which he passed to me.

"Here, have a drink! I hope you like ale. If not I'll have it."

"I like ale just fine. Thank you." I took a sip of the liquid. It had a pleasant taste, a mixture of malt and oak and slightly nutty. It reminded me of the real ales that the local brewery sold back home.

"Look, I suppose I ought to apologise for earlier," Robin continued, leaning back against the wheel of the cart and looking slightly flustered. "I'm not… I mean I don't… well, witches," he added, looking confused. "All my life I've believed that witches are evil and it's not something a man can let go of just like that. I mean, they must be evil, otherwise why would the Church be burning them all the time?"

"To try and keep warm in the winter?" I asked, trying to keep a straight face. "Or maybe the Church is like you, frightened of what they don't understand."

"I'm not frightened!" he protested, shaking his head violently. I raised an eyebrow and he grinned sheepishly. "Well, I'm not _easily_ frightened," he amended. "Ask anybody here and they'll tell you that Rob's not a man frightened who's easily frightened. It just so happens that witchcraft and black magic are two of the things that bloody terrify me. So no turning me into a frog while I sleep, all right?"

"I'll try not to," I giggled. "If it's any consolation magic scares me too. I mean, not having done it before and suddenly Kitten can do it and, well, it's just as weird for us as it is for you ," I clarified, and sighed as Robin pursed his lips and stared thoughtfully into the distance. "What else are you scared of?"

"Hmm? Oh. Cats," he said seriously. "Can't stand the buggers. They make me sneeze." I laughed and he grinned suddenly, slipping his arm around my shoulders. "You know, I've never had a witch before. And you could do a lot worse than bedding me. I'm an exquisite lover as Cecily dear can tell you, can't you Cecily?" he called as the woman wandered past.

"Oh yes, he certainly is very good," said Cecily, her voice soft and musical. She paused for a moment and grinned. "The best ten heartbeats of my life." We both roared with laughter and Robin shifted uncomfortably.

"Come now, Cecily, I'm the leader of this pack, don't go insulting my manhood!" he pouted.

"You're right. Sorry, Robin. Your manhood needs no further insults, save its very presence."

"Ah, dear Cecily, always a joker," said Robin, pretending he hadn't heard that last remark as I giggled. She sat down on his other side and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Oh come now, Rob, let's not have you hassling the womenfolk just yet, eh?" groaned John, dragging the rebel leader to his feet.

"But I'm with two of the most beautiful maidens in all of Sherwood! I was having fun!" protested Robin as he was led away. Cecily laughed and turned to me.

"I know Robin's a bit arrogant but he's fine once you get to know him," she explained calmly, smoothing down her skirt. "And he really is a good lover."

"Hang on. If he's Will's cousin, and you're also Will's cousin, doesn't that make it incest?" I asked, trying to work it out in my head.

"Well yes, he is my cousin, but he's only a cousin by marriage, whereas Will is a blood relative," she explained. "Will is the son of my father's brother whereas Robin is the son of Will's mother's sister."

"And that makes it acceptable?" I asked, trying to see the logic.

"In all walks of society, including royalty," she replied with a smile. "Of course such dalliances are in the past, as I am to marry David in three weeks' time."

"Cecily!" She looked up as her beloved called and smiled.

"Speaking of which, I really ought to dance," she added, getting up and smoothing down her skirts. "I'll speak to you later!"

Later when the festivities were over Kit, Kels and I bedded down in Will's hut, which was the only one that had enough space for us - and also so he could keep an eye on us for Robin. I settled down on my mattress of straw, pulled the blankets up to my chin and stared out of the roughly-hewn window at the almost-full moon. Any adverse feelings I had about being in the past were fast dispersing and I strongly suspected I was going to enjoy myself here. I got to learn how to use a sword and a bow, run around in the forest and drink with a bunch of men - all good things in my book. And they seemed a pleasant enough bunch. Even Robin; yes, he was a bit arrogant, but with all those people under his command he had a right to be. And then of course there was magic to discover and faeries to find. I felt a shiver of excitement, turned onto my back and grinned. This was going to be _fun_.


End file.
